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And he hadn’t counted on wanting her so much after they’d already made love twice the night before. He was beginning to think of Marlowe as an addiction that he couldn’t seem to shake.
“That’s what you get for trying to be nice,” she told him.
“Trying?” Bowie echoed. “I thought I was pretty successful in that department.”
“I was talking about being nice,” she informed him, “not the other part.”
He grinned at her, even as he warned himself not to get drawn in again. He didn’t have time for entanglements or for getting caught up with the daughter of his father’s archrival...even though they were now ha
ving a baby together.
So why was he having so much trouble convincing himself to leave her alone?
* * *
“So was I,” he told her, his grin getting under her skin.
It occurred to Marlowe that he was driving awfully slowly for a man who was supposed to be in a hurry. This was a sports car, for heaven’s sake.
“Can’t this thing go any faster? You’re not the only one with meetings to get to,” she told him. “I’ve got one scheduled for half an hour from now, so step on it,” she urged.
“Five minutes isn’t going to make a difference,” he told her. “It’s not just your life you’d be risking by speeding. You’re going to have to start thinking more like a mother, Marlowe.”
She really didn’t take well to being lectured to. “I am thinking like a mother,” she informed him. “An impatient mother. Now make this car go faster!”
Her eyes widened as she felt the car slowing down, not picking up speed. Looking at the speedometer, she saw that she was right. Bowie was slowing down.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Making you take a breath.” He wasn’t kidding anymore. Bowie was deadly serious. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to wind up giving yourself preeclampsia,” he told her.
She stared at him. He was making that up, she thought. “Say what?”
“That’s where you wind up with high blood pressure, swollen ankles, and a lot of other unpleasant symptoms and side effects, which in turn will force you to spend the duration of your pregnancy laid up in bed, something I have a feeling that you really wouldn’t like,” he concluded. “So stop being such a rebel and just take it light, all right?”
“How do you know all this?” she asked, still not certain if she believed the man in the driver’s seat or not. She wouldn’t have put it past Bowie to have made that word up.
“Since you told me about our pending bundle of joy, I’ve done a lot of reading up on the subject,” he told her. “Preeclampsia is also something you would know about if you made that appointment with your doctor.” The look on Bowie’s face told her just what he expected her to do next.
“Fine,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “I’ll make that appointment with my ob-gyn. Now can you please get me to my office, or do I have to flag down a turtle to get me there?”
“No offense, but I don’t think you’d fit on the back of a turtle,” he told her, clearly doing his best to keep the smile off his face. “Besides,” he said as he slowed down and pulled over to the curb on the next block, “we’re here. And here’s Bigelow, right on time.” He brought his car right up to where the bodyguard was standing and waiting for her.
With a welcoming smile, Wallace leaned in and opened the passenger door for Marlowe.
“Good morning, Ms. Colton,” the bodyguard said brightly. He presented his elbow to her, waiting for her to take it.
Marlowe deliberately ignored his elbow as she swung out her legs and rose to her feet. “I can still get out of a car on my own, Wallace,” she informed the bodyguard stiffly.
“Never said you couldn’t, ma’am,” the bodyguard replied politely. He still watched her every move carefully—just in case.
Bowie leaned over inside the car toward the passenger side to get a better look at the bodyguard.
“I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you, Bigelow. As you can see,” Bowie told the man on his payroll, “Ms. Colton left her sunny disposition at home this morning.”
Wallace flashed his employer a smile. “I’m sure everything will be fine, sir,” he said, glancing toward Marlowe.
“Just get me away from Mr. Personality here,” Marlowe said from between clenched teeth. “Before I say something he won’t appreciate.”
